I wanted to curl my hair before. I’m going out tonight and thought I’d do it, rather than keep it up (at the moment I’m wearing my hair up, it’s a little bit of a mess). I don’t have a curler in my room. Well, I do, a new one that hasn’t been opened and that I never use in order to preserve it’s newness. I know, I know, it’s pointless to have it if I don’t use it. I always use my sisters curler and was gonna do so now. Except that I pulled out the plug and was about to bring it to my room in order to curl my hair. I guess to curl my hair. More to self harm. I plugged it back into her socket and am just gonna go out with my hair a bit of a mess.

The pause.

There never used to be a pause. I would pick something up to use, and just, use it. I would decide to do something, and do it. When it came to using painkillers there was more a pause, as it’d have to dissolve first. But even then, it’s not like there was time for me to think about it. Occasionally there was, but usually I’d only realize that I wanted to do something when I was already doing it. By which time it was too late to actually stop. For it’d be done.

The pause.

I guess there is a pause now. I can’t say I’m aware of what I want to do. For if I were, I probably wouldn’t have been about to move a curler in order to burn. Unless it does go like that. See something and want to use it, without there being anything beforehand. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had that. However, nowadays there’s usually (still not always, but sometimes) a gap before I actually use something. A gap that is sometimes long enough to acknowledge what I want to do and choose not to do so. I can’t say I always see the gap as enough of a choice, for sometimes it’s way too hard not to just do it when I’m about to, but there is sometimes a pause. That never used to exist. That I’m grateful for.